


Kebabs & Catwalks

by Fics4you



Series: Embers [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, FAHC, Fahc! Ryan, Fake AH Crew, Fluff and Angst, Rooster Teeth - Freeform, Slow Burn, achievement hunter - Freeform, achievement hunter insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fics4you/pseuds/Fics4you
Summary: Oh god, you missed him. Missed a smile so familiar you could recite the curves from memory, because it’s almost all you had left. Worlds apart and entangled in your own responsibilities, you’re desperately left scrambling to redirect the crash course. Ryan as equally frantic to keep hold of something - anything - that could say ‘I love you’ without breathing the damaging words.





	Kebabs & Catwalks

Your eyes sting while staring out onto the street, fingers drumming with thick absentminded thuds against the wheel as people pool from the building you’d recently escaped. Rivers of sparkling diamonds and luminescent fabrics shimmer with the immaculate crowds drifting away; peals of laughter throbbing with their footsteps to wander across the pavement and choke the surrounding bars. No attention’s paid to the filth coating the paths, cigarette butts joining the hopes and dreams lurking in the gutters; internal screams of the less fortunate dusted in glitter.

You try to block out the throngs as they pass by the car, ignoring the nails sliding across the bonnet and disapproving looks piercing through the window. You loathed the haze of these events. The early morning hours releasing the higher class onto the world; drunk on self worth and bubbles. How must it feel to live without a care? To live every minute for pleasure, rushing with the bright lights darting past so fast you could never grasp them. Envy wasn’t the right word, but it was close.

Sympathy, knowing their world – a realm where there’s no darkness and no pain – would shatter in someone else’s hands. Someone like you. Bitter and desperate, scavenging as much as you could to siphon away and subdue the ugly responsibilities threatening to cry for attention. Cloak the fear and plug the expenses; hoping word of your mother would never come. The high and mighty being robbed of their riches was nothing compared to the way society had robbed them of their humanity, leaving nothing but a counterfeit illusion in its place. Beautiful and mesmerising but eternally hollow. Nothing more than shells left to rattle through life without goals or direction, without an understanding of pain and loss that wasn’t gold plated.

Normally you’d stomach it, put on the confident alluring smile and don the garish dress like you belonged, like you shared their sparkling positivity in a world falling apart; but not tonight. Nor any time in the past two months. The air had been far too heavy, suffocating just enough to leave you gasping. Every step forward pushed you further back, knees crying out and trying to buckle; body wanting to hurtle to the ground and let out an almighty scream of defeat. How much longer could you continue to construct a future out of broken pieces? Their edges wicked sharp against your skin, memories dripping from the cuts while patch together something you should have abandoned long ago.

 Perhaps the right word _was_ envy.

You were jealous of how easy breathing was on the other side, how simple it was to dive into a pool of naivety and drown the sorrow away with a sip of something fizzy. You wanted nothing more that to spend a night free from the nightmares, have a morning that didn’t ache in the centre of your chest. You craved an hour where you didn’t have to think, desperate for the feeling of a comfort only arms could bring. You didn’t want to avoid the ringing phone for fear of bad news, couldn’t stomach the path you were left to spiral into. What wouldn’t you give for a moment’s peace? A need to indulge in something so incredibly inhuman it might stifle the screams of your mind. The tears feeling like they’re constantly falling; but never seem too. Just something to stop the world turning, just an instance where things aren’t moving too fast while you’re stuck in one spot, feet welded to the nothingness. You just needed him, just... just some form of him.

You shift in the abrasive driver’s seat, mind wandering sluggishly to the night you’d ghosted through, haunting a world that seemed far too bright. None of it made sense, the throbbing lights and words having formed a pile of gibberish at your feet. The memory of your thighs plastering to the seat at the edge of the catwalk sears through your sleepy mind, an incredible contrast against the course fabric now tracing impressions into the skin – and the only sense of reality you’d experienced in hours. Sat alone in your stiflingly warm car the night spins, a nauseating ache stretching along your shoulders as exhaustion recites sonnets across your ribs.

Behind your closed eyes the looks of disdain from designers and investors burn in the darkness, unpicking the pieces of your life you’d managed to stitch back together, edges fraying to pull apart. You’d done your best, unaware that the elegant cocktail dress you’d slipped into had no way near enough glitter mask the fact that you didn’t belong. Your bare legs had screamed for unwanted attention; shrouded in enough sheer floor length fabric that retiring the dress could see you with a new set of curtains.

Your eyes flick to the car mirror to break the stream of thought, frowning at the dark circles and their refusal to be subdued. You painfully recall the frustration left rattling inside, planted in the centre of your bedroom and staring at your body; so exhausted and so close to tears that anything would set the tears rolling. You hadn’t gotten better over the course of the night. The lights of the street chasing hollow shadows across your cheekbones; lips forming a thinly pressed line at the thought of picking up another paper and continuing the pattern.

You were far too empty for the airs and graces, the words crammed into textbooks nagging every waking moment and joining the anxieties plaguing you during sleep. Every day left you trying to juggle your studies and family, your night life overtaken with need to cover the expenses of the lives you were responsible for. Everything was pressing so hard against your shoulders they creaked. You couldn’t count the times you’d fallen asleep with your cheek pressed against a page, slumped against your desk. Didn’t want to think about how often you’d drifted off to the sound of Jon’s tears dancing with yours through the phone.

How long had it been since you’d slept in your own bed as opposed to the couch?

The desk?

The car? 

Ryan had gone past the point of rousing you, struggling to lift his own head let alone carry you inside. If he didn’t curl up at your side or slump in the carpet by your feet he’d instead let you to sleep where you fell, a blanket draped across what he could. It was one of the few signs he existed, a persistent memory that just wouldn’t leave you to wallow, a spectre you’d see from the corner of your eye. Without fail there’d be a cold cup of tea left in the kitchen when morning finally rolled around, a parting gift and apology haunting a world neither of you truly had time to fit into anymore.

Your schedules rarely coincided. The jobs, study, and crime cancelling out free time and dictating ridiculous hours; responsibilities steering you further away from him. He was no different, left to spiral through a world he had no grip on, following the motions for fear of defiance; because what would happen to the two of you then? Try all you want, you were lucky to see Ryan more than once a week for longer than an hour at a time. It was a constant drain, the world leeching what little life you had left. Hours ago you’d frantically photographed textbook pages on your bedroom floor, throwing on what you could to rush out the door for the two hour trip. A block of time opening with the opportunity to finally see him; even if it meant you were to divert your eyes between designers and work.

You’d do anything to see that man smile, your presence at the show having meant the world to him after being absent for so, so long. Against your closed lids you could still see his face lighting up, eyes falling to the uncontrollable beam you’d returned; pride having hammered in your chest. The distance had been straining for you both, but surely it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Even the sight of him stung, mind desperately trying to steer from the emotions that had caused so much complex pain, lashing against the part of you that needed him. Every smile that decorated his lips sent your heart fluttering, the delight in his deep shimmering eyes sparking the gasoline running in your veins. Even now the thought of his excitement and fingers twitching out to subtly wave as he continued along the stage made you ache, overwhelming your body and pressing against your shoulders until there was nothing else to do but feel.

The sound of the passenger door opening drags away the thoughts you’d lost in the crowd, Ryan slinking into the seat with a tired sigh and puffy eyes.  You offer him a comforting smile, heart squeezing as he removes the hood hiding his weary face, makeup and defeat caught in the waves of his hair. Streaks of red and silver cut as sharp as blades across his cheeks, relief and exhaustion gushing to fill the car and engulf you in confusing ecstasy. He leans back, head against the seat before his eyes drift closed, gentle rasp forming a groan in the back of his throat while his fingers find your own.

Reaching out your remaining hand to brush away the loose strands of hair, you. At your touch his eyes peel open, thanks swimming in the crystal blue depths as they meet yours, a sleepy smile pulling lopsided across his lips.

“Hey there,” you breathe, fingers brushing the strong line of his jaw reassuringly.

He lets out a chuckle, running warm against your knuckles, “hey, you made it.”

“Of course,” you smile, skin dusted with an orange glow as the interior light fades with your worries, if only for a little while. “I told you I wouldn’t miss this one.”

He nuzzles unconsciously against your fingers before realising he’s indulging in the guilty need for you, catching himself with wide eyes and a clumsy plough forward to distract the joy his heart felt; fearful of falling back into damaging habits. “I was sceptical, I’ll admit it.”

“Understandable, I’ve been a shit recently.”

“You’re a shit all the time,” he grins, the expression becoming difficult in his sleep drunk state, “I expect nothing less.”

“Well, I’m gonna kick the habit,” you state firmly, the hope in Ryan’s eyes leaping as high as your heart.

While retracting your hand you can’t help but sympathise – he looked almost as tired as you felt. You could almost trace the progression of the day and anxieties of the year with each slump and curve. The world had dragged him down and held on, constantly throw trial after trial into his path to leave him stumbling to stay standing. You’d never met someone more dedicated or more determined than Ryan, everything he did building towards a brighter future; even if it meant steeping his past in an inescapable darkness.

   
“You did amazing, Pooky,” is all you manage, eyes searching the lines of his face and the bump of his nose, face seemingly chiselled every day into a deep brooding whenever it settled.

“You’d be surprised how exhausting a catwalk and heels can be.”

Laughing you start up the car, manoeuvring through the groups lingering in the road, trying to leave your concerns behind.

“But your calves looked so good,” you giggle, casting a quick sideways glance and catching the smile he made no attempt to suppress.

“Hell yeah they did.” 

“You hungry?” The question almost seems pointless after the monumental growl of his stomach, Ryan’s smile turning sheepish as it widens.

“I’m always hungry.”

“Its 1 am, what crap are we clogging our arteries with this time?” He runs a scarred hand through his short hair thoughtfully, ruffling the back to leave it spiked and messy.

“I want... kebabs.” You raise a delicate eyebrow while redirecting the car, wheels tugging against the road as you curve with the corner to exit the city.

“like, truck stop kebabs?”

His eyes light up at the suggestion, exhaustion ebbing away while he nods, “is there any other kind?”

  
“Surprisingly, yes,” you laugh, pulling to a stop to let a gaggle of well dressed women cross, their eyes passing over you to settle on Ryan; recognising him from the show.Before they can continue approaching the window and push Ryan further down in his seat you’re peeling off, whisking him away and leaving them in the spots of rain beginning to fall.

“I passed one on the way here,” you muse, signalling to enter the relatively empty line of traffic leading away from the throbbing lights and constant life of the city, zipping between the larger cars with ease and grace. “The whole place just screamed greasy.”

“It sounds perfect, put it in me.”

The fond warmth grows in your chest while you laugh; settling into the relaxed comfort that always engulfed you whenever Ryan was around. No matter what you’d been through, nor how long it had been since you’d actually sat down to talk; everything was always easy. Never running out of conversation, but that didn’t mean silence was uncomfortable. More often than not you’d simply curl into each other in the soft quiet hum of your apartment, needing nothing but the company to ease the day’s pain. As you’re thinking Ryan slowly drifts off, eyes fluttering shut and incredibly full eyelashes brushing the tops of his pinking cheeks. In sleep all stress melts from his features; then all that’s left is long drive filled with Ryan’s soft snores and a stinging light rushing overhead.

 

* * *

 

“Garlic sauce?”

You nod vigorously up at the vendor, his slick smile as greasy as the food, though warm and friendly. “just load them up with everything you’ve got.” He laughs, piling on as much cheese and meat as possible, littering the piles with onion before beginning to wrap. Shrugging up the sleeves of Ryan’s coat as it slips from your shoulders, you’re on your tiptoes to swipe the diet cokes the man offers; passing them to Ryan’s waiting hands.

“I’ll find us a spot,” he states, casting his eyes across the empty parking lot surrounding the truck stop and kebab station. You point, finger barely protruding from the coat’s cuff to a grassy bank by the side of the road.

“Try by the fire hydrant.”

“Ah, the fire hydrant, the classiest of date spots,” he teases, the remaining makeup splattering his cheeks sparkling as bright as his smile while he heads over; your words chasing after him.

“You _wish_ you could score a date with me!”

“I really do...”

His admittance plays havoc as you turn to accept the two kebabs, skin running cold and restless in the cold breeze chilling your nose. Thanking the vendor you try not to think of your relationship with Ryan, yet the memories rushing through your mind far too fast. Moments of pure, utter joy shifting to fearful anger as life races by with the passing cars; nipping at your heels while making your way to Ryan, his back to you and face tilted to the star spotted sky. The first and hopefully last dangerous blows of intense emotion had seen your lives torn apart, the two of you still attempting to gather up the pieces and create a different image as opposed to the romance you’d envisioned.

Having Ryan in your life was worth it, even if every moment was potentially painful. The two of you would constantly orbit back to each other without intending to, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Somehow you’d always end up in the same obscure place at the same unusual time; and you’d eventually been forced to accept it. You we’re stuck with each other, left to battle with the dangerous emotions and chaotic possibilities. Trapped to face the man you loved, unable to speak the words for fear of the uncontrollable dangers of jealousy, anger and disdain that inevitable tore you apart.

Settling down beside him you offer the kebab, his fingers rolling it in his hands to warm his palms. Shuffling closer your sides pressing together as you peel away the foil, smell removing the lining off your stomach, “he made yours extra oily.”

“My hero,” he beams while holding the kebab out to you for a toast; chuckling as you reluctantly lower the food and hover beside his.

“To us,” he cheers, an earnest smile on his face and an admiration locked in his eyes, stretching your heart uncomfortably.

“To a future that’s a little less chaotic.” A tap of your meals sees him delving in, satisfied hums resonating in his throat as the greasy food touches his lips. Following without hesitation you take the first bite, garlic hitting hard and cheese nothing more than a rich afterthought.

“You know,” he notes between mouthfuls and sips of diet coke, face yet again turned to the stars, “you’re too young to be this busy.”

“You act like you’re ancient. I mean, yeah I’m 20,” you grumble, bumping shoulders, “and I couldn’t agree more, but that’s not the point.”

“God,” he sighs reminiscently, thinking back with fondness, “what was I even doing at 20? That was like, 5 whole years ago.”

“Those whole years really make a difference, way more important than regular years.”

“They really do.”

“I reckon you were waiting for me,” you joke, smile teasing across your lips as he shoots you an amused glare, “that or being a huge nerd. Wait, you’re still a massive fucking goof.”

“Ouch,” he mocks, swiping a stray piece of meat from your kebab, chuckling at your protests. “You know, honestly not much has changed since then. Same routine, I wash the blood off my hands one at a time, just like any other psychotic monster.” You raise an eyebrow questioningly, his eyes falling to meet yours. “Well, I mean things are a lot less lonely and I don’t murder for the sake of it anymore. I’ve got you now. You help hide the evidence.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Were do you think we’ll be in another 10 years?” His question surprises you, soft tone caressing an idea so fragile that you’d hadn’t considered it since the emotional explosion that ripped away your dreams; shattering your last 10 year plan to pieces.

“I don’t know,” you admit while resting your head against his shoulder, continuing to pick apart you meal, “but I hope to still be annoying the crap outta you.”

"I hope so too,” he agrees, turning to rest his chin atop your head, warmth radiating from his neck across your skin, “maybe we could retire somewhere abroad?”

“You want to live in a holiday destination?”

“Yeah,” he pulls away to wave his kebab at you, hope still somehow worming into his expression despite the odds threatening the future.

“Thinking maybe Greece?”

 


End file.
